


Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks

by IrishCoffee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Jimstrade fluff is unique fluff, M/M, and mail order brides, bonding over porn, cute stuff, in the strangest way, the fluffiest of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 21,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishCoffee/pseuds/IrishCoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has to leave town to some 'work' and it's the first time he and Greg aren't residing in the same house so Greg learns to do something new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Greg ditches his rotary dial phone for video chats

Marching into his office that morning, a few minutes early for his shift, Greg hollered at Donovan as he passed her desk with the instructions to follow to his office. Without making sure she listened, he walked in the door she set the bag down that he was carrying on his desk and started to unload it’s contents. Pulling the far nicer than he needed laptop out, opening it and turning it in before addressing the waiting woman. The cover story was easy, perks of keeping quiet about his life, “My brother, he’s out visiting mum and dad and he’s got that new baby. I can’t get out there, work and all, so he told me to get this thing… Skype… that’s what it is right?”

"Yes, sir."

"Great. I need that then." He answered, turning his computer to face Sally now that he had logged on. The commands came out the same way Greg would command a crime scene and not requesting a favor from a friend. "I got the website, see, but that’s kind of as far as I got."

Donovan groaned quietly but stated clicking and typing, she wasn’t a stranger to guiding Greg through the world of technology and knew it was best to get it done herself and now or she’d be hearing about it all day. It didn’t take long to set things up, Greg provided the information and she set it up. What took the time was the explanation of how it all worked. Confident he had it they went back to work. As soon as Sally closed the office door Greg sent a text **[Jimmy Jazz: I got something we need to discuss. Be free after my shift. 6pm. -GL]** Allowing himself time to get home in case of traffic, change clothes, and settle in without rushing around, Greg smiled he was incredibly proud of himself right now.

Jim had been gone away ‘on business’ for over a week and neither would admit it but they were actually starting to miss each other. Phone calls weren't enough and texting wasn’t enough. There was some overheard comments about others using this same thing so Greg thought why not. The idea to keep it some sort of surprise was all Greg though.

Arriving home before six as predicted, Greg changed out of his work clothes (but not into his pajamas, like he normally would) and set himself up in his office and logged into everything. The coffee he started was finished so with his last remaining minutes, Greg grabbed a cup and as he walked back to his office, 5:50, he sent another text **[Jimmy Jazz: Add Sourpatch to your Skype. -GL]**.

There wasn’t any way he could see to call Jim without knowing his screen name and there wasn’t a way to get it. This was the next best thing. With all that done, Greg sat down and waited.


	2. Jim is Impressed

Since his ‘resurrection,’ Jim had been keeping an even lower profile than he had before, which was saying something. He’d kept his clientele to a minimum and had done work that could be done strictly through e-mail where he was able to use various aliases. But things were slowly picking up again and a little over a week ago he’d found himself on a plane to Australia, only having worked it out two days beforehand. It was a little sudden compared to most work trips, but that was the price you paid when you worked in the business that Jim did. Or, rather, _ran_ the business. The man more or less had a monopoly on crime and that he’d been able to keep his hold on even after death, but it was time he began working to get complete control once again and fix any loose ends that had been made during the few years he’d been away.

When he felt his phone vibrate the custom vibration that he’d set for Greg he had smiled the slightest bit, though he otherwise ignored it until he’d exited the room he’d been in with one of Australia’s biggest drug kingpins. It seemed to be for the best. When Jim finally got to reading the text message, he raised a brow in curiosity as he began racking his brain for what they might have had to discuss.

**[SMS, Sourpatch]: You clock out between 5:15 and 5:30. I’m offended that you would take an entire hour to yourself before discussing whatever clearly dire subject matter you have on your mind. Pardon me as I sulk for being treated as some second class citizen. — J x**

**[SMS, Sourpatch]: Consider it done. I am yours for the evening or however long it is you need. — J x**

6 pm in London was 3 am where Jim was, but he didn’t mention that or the fact that he had to be up by 7 am that morning in order to be out by 8. It didn’t matter, he hardly slept anyways and it had been even harder to do so since he’d been on this trip. He would have much rather spent the time speaking with Greg about whatever it was than tossing and turning, growing more and more frustrated that he couldn’t force himself to sleep.

At 2 am Jim had his laptop set up on the desk and his phone beside it in the overpriced hotel suite in Greg’s pajama pants that he’d taken with him and one of his plain white v—necks, working on a few things that could have waited but he’d decided to get a head start on. When 3 rolled around and another text from Greg came in, Jim checked his phone and actually laughed at what he read. Not mockingly, but because it had been a bit surprising to read. Skype? That was at least two steps beyond Greg’s computer knowledge. Clearly the man had worked to get the program and Jim couldn’t even bring himself to make a crack at him because it was work that had obviously been done for him and at this point he was incredibly pleased and rather grateful for the effort hat had been put forth.

In order to make himself untraceable, Jim changed his IP address, making it seem as though he were connecting from India (which would tell Greg that it was only 10 pm once he was logged into Skype), created a new wireless signal to join, registered an all new screen name under the alias ‘Jimmy Jazz’ which would be used for Greg and Greg only so that he would in no way be able to be connected to Jim if something were to somehow go wrong and he were to be found out (which was laughable but you can't be too careful), and only once everything was secure did he do as the message had instructed.

Jim added Greg and proceeded to start a video call almost immediately (which at this point he didn’t really care if it caused him to come off a little desperate or impatient), but the screen on his end was blacked out and no sound at all could be heard until Greg’s face had been on the screen for a few seconds and Jim was sure that it was him. It was always better safe than sorry and Jim Moriarty was never sorry.

"Just who did you have to go through to get your hands on something this technologically advanced? Was it Donovan or Watson? As you haven’t had time to stop by Baker Street today, my money is on Donovan. Though I have to say, I am still rather impressed, help or not.”


	3. Houston, We Have Contact?

It was surprisingly torturous to sit and wait, sure Greg knew it wouldn’t happen instantly but the time between sending the text and when there was actually something happening on his screen seemed to be hours. Sipping his coffee, Greg fiddled with the papers on his desk, putting them into organized little piles as he waited, trying to busy himself. It was the more organized Greg's desk had ever been but the small traces of anxiety, more over if he'd done this right than anything else, had to come out some how and he new there wasn't time to run out for a cigarette though he really, really should have had one before sitting down. This wasn’t just anxiety over learning to use some new bit of technology, this was excitement. It was something he’d have denied had anyone been around to see (or even if Jim had called him on it, it'd still be denied). With another drink of his coffee Greg tried to find a comfortable way to sit in his suddenly uncomfortable office and he did the only thing he could; wait. 

When the computer started to do things and the call came through, Greg answered and gave the best confirmation his end was working that he could, without trying, he stared at the screen, first in confusion and then in disgust, sure he’d done some part of it wrong since he ended up with nothing back a silent picture. Greg had paid attention to the tutorial he'd been given that morning and followed the directions to the tee but Jim still wasn't on the screen. He sighed and looked around the screen trying to find what it was that would fix it, scanning the keyboard next in case there was an answer there. Before he was too frustrated, the picture came in and there was Jim. 

Instantly and against his will, Greg’s frustration turned to a smile. The smile grew when greetings and all that had been skipped and they went right to insults. “It’s a website. I understand websites. Those big buttons that say download? That’s what you click to download something.” Greg gave right back. He had managed to find his way to the website and download button okay but it was after that where he was lost. “Hardly rocket science,” Giving a fake scowl to emphasize his point. This was exactly what he was missing.


	4. One Millionth Visitor

Okay, so maybe Jim could have shown his face a little sooner than he had, but he couldn’t resist watching as Greg tried to figure out what was going on. Was it cruel to watch someone struggle with something they had no knowledge in rather than offer to help them out so that they could cease their struggling and frustration? Probably. But it was also incredibly amusing and that trumped kindness every time in Jim’s book.

He may have also taken that small amount of time to force down a bit of the happiness he felt bubbling up in him at the sight of the man’s face live for the first time in over a week. Jim felt a little too excited to see him, so he had wanted to make sure to push that down to a reasonable level, though he did feel better about his own feelings towards the whole thing when Greg’s face lit up. That sight was one of the best he was sure he’d ever seen as he knew it was nothing other than his presence (even if it was only virtual) that had caused it.

Jim chuckled at Greg’s response and put his bare feet up on the desk as the other spoke, grabbing his own coffee (not tea) and holding it in his hand for a moment so that he could properly reply. “Actually, dear, you most certainly should not click any big buttons that say ‘download.’ Those are most likely ads or viruses that will infect your computer to the point where not even a shot of adrenaline to the core could help bring it back. Generally the true download buttons are of average size. And just so you are aware, for I can feel your hard drive shaking from here, you are not actually the one millionth visitor and you should never, ever claim your free iPad.”

"You are being an absolutely horrible liar right now. Where’s that oh so impenetrable poker face I allow you to believe I know so well?" Jim didn’t bother trying to hide his grin in attempt to mask the sarcasm. He brought the mug to his lips and took a drink of the coffee that was far darker than he usually took it in order to help with the lack of sleep he’d been getting which was beginning to show through the dark circles that had began to gather under his eyes. "You had help. I have faith that you could have downloaded the program yourself and all of that," no he didn’t, "but the set up is a whole other story. But you have managed to get it up and running on your own, so I applaud you in the least sarcastic way possible."


	5. Computer Viruses and Swallowing Your Pride

It was starting to make sense why people did this, why this was a thing. Text messages were great and everything because both men were busy so a witty insult could sit in their inbox for hours, until they had chance to get to it. Though, even as well as they knew each other a few more ‘wrong things’ were said than usual. The phone calls weren’t any better but when you added being able to _see_ with the calling it wasn’t as bad. It left the least margin of error, things couldn't be taken wrong because there was both tone and expression, just like talking in person only grainier. All those stupid looks and faces Jim pulls weren’t just imagined, they were there.

"Wait. So you mean all those flashing buttons on all those porn sites, all the times I’ve entered my credit card number, I’m not really getting my prize?" Greg whined at the computer screen, pretending to look both shocked and hurt as though he was really expecting his free iPad in the mail any day now. The man, of course, knew better but if he was going to be accused of not knowing anything he might as well go along with it. It was a few seconds of the shocked look before Greg shook his head and rolled his eyes. 

As soon as the annoyed look came up, it was washed away and Greg was sitting there ashamed and trying to figure out what to say back. Of course he needed help, a lot of it, but he didn’t exactly feel great about it. Greg straddled the line between too old to care about updated technology and young enough to be on top of it, he was behind the trend on owning a cell phone and sent actual memos at work for far too long before embracing email. Now Greg had an iPhone (only a couple models old) and a laptop with more bells and whistles than he understood and while he had no interest in understand _all_ the things technology could do he was adding more and more to his bag of tricks. This, however, was one of the tricks he didn't mind leanring, Greg could tell, for certain, Jim was joking and nothing was meant to hurt, he just needed a few minutes to morn the amount ego he was swallowing (which was hard for a _man_ like Greg). “I didn’t even download it. I…I seen the button but I clicked it and didn’t know what it was asking. The whole getting it set up seemed easier, I coulda done that I know my own name. Donovan helped me though, she got it going.” Greg shrugged one shoulder and chuckled a little to say it wasn’t a big deal (even if it was a little). Giving a smile he reached beyond the computer and grabbed his own cup, taking a drink before returning it. This wasn’t so bad.


	6. Jim Gets Supportive

"No, the porn sites are just fine. They are very decent people, contrary to popular belief. Good morals and such. If you signed up for anything there, say a mail order bride or something of the like, you can count on that showing up some time soon," Jim continued, still grinning like mad as he spoke as he was making no attempt to hide his amusement like he would any other time. He couldn’t be bothered. He was too consumed in having the conversation that he’d been craving since he’d boarded the plane. There weren’t very many people who could (or would) carry on like the two of them did and to have that familiarity, along with the visual, was a great comfort. He made a note to set up Skype sessions whenever he had to be away, even if it was just watching a movie together online. Though Greg wasn’t actually there, Jim felt a lot closer to him by just being able to see his face.

At Greg’s admittance of defeat, Jim’s face softened. He’d had his fun and there was no reason to make the man feel bad about his lack of technological knowledge. It had been noted a long time ago and the fact that he’d found out about the program and taken the initiative to actually try and set it up himself had said a lot. That had certainly been noted as well. “Don’t get so down on yourself, Sourpatch,” he said in a casual voice that was less harsh than the one he might normally use. He leaned back in his chair and stretched, holding his arms above his head as he pulled to each side. When he came back to look at the camera he attempted to suppress a yawn but wasn’t very successful. He settled back down in the seat and held his cup in his lap. “You’ve been getting much better with technology as a whole lately, I’ve noticed. Not exactly up to par with the rest of us yet, but you’re getting there. It’s slow going, but it’s going. So keep your head up, you just might not drown.”


	7. Greg Ordered a Mail-Order Bride

"You say ‘good morals’ and I say ‘dead bride’. I ordered one already but they couldn’t get her to me alive." Greg tutted and shook his head, a smile growing on his face, the one that showed how much he enjoyed being able to have such a ridiculous conversation as though it were normal and said he was just playing around. The list of people he could tell he ordered a mail order bride too contained one name, making the moment even better. "It’s a lot of work to hide a dead body. Not to mention all that wasted money!" The irony wasn’t lost on Greg but acknowledging that Jim did know about hiding dead bodies went against their little code. Eventually there’d come a time when they could joke about it but tonight he’d stick to mail order brides. 

He hadn’t been aware of how much he truly missed having Jim around until seeing him was something that excited him this much. There shouldn’t be this much excitement for a stilted picture on the computer but there was. Watching him move around to sit in different positions, like at home, the looks, the smile had all pointed to actually missing Jim. In past relationships Greg was able to leave for conferences, help in districts that weren’t his, just be away from home for stretches of time and everything seemed fine (though he didn’t really have video chatting as an option to get through them). However, since the moment Jim and Greg met they were together. Leaving for work and the few weeks before Jim moved into the bed were the only time they weren’t together and suddenly there was this trip and they were thrown into being apart. Everything, at least, on Greg’s end was handled decently but it was getting harder and harder. The first few days were fine, there wasn't a celebration for having his flat to himself or anything like that but he wasn't broken up about the departure. As the days went on, though, with the dinners eaten alone, no one sleeping next to him, no one flushing the toilet during his shower to change the water temperature was noticeably missing. Ten days into the business trip and Greg was ready for it to be over so his life could get back to 'normal' (as relative as that was for these two). 

Jim looked tired, there were bags under his eyes which just looked tired in general but Greg thought that was the computer’s doing. The stretching, the yawning, it was adding up and he took notice but ignored it for right now. He wasn’t Jim’s father, if he wanted to stay up and work instead of sleep, that’s his fault. He smiled at the encouraging words, a crooked smile. “I got a ways to go…” he admitted with the same smile “but I think I’m starting to see the perks of not living in the past all time.” It was a tough thing to admit but Greg couldn't exactly deny that he wasn't a technology wiz.


	8. There's No Place Like Home

“Just because their morals are skewed doesn’t make them _bad_. It’s all relative, love. One man’s dead bride is another man’s… well, bride.” Jim ceased all movement at that point, narrowing his eyes and puckering his lips slightly. “That just got dark, didn’t it?” As though it hadn’t been more than a little twisted before. But then again _their_ ‘dark’ and ‘twisted’ was a little twisted. It was one of the things he loved about the sarcastic back and forths. He’d been reminded of just how few people could hold their own against him while on this trip. Normally he was able to go back home after dealing with _most people_ and get his fix by starting up with Greg, because the man rarely let him down. But since they had been away from each other it had much harder to get that fix.

“Regardless, they are a proper business. They have got to have a return policy. I am glad you told me about the purchase, though, because had ‘From Russia with Love’ shown up on your credit card bill that I religiously check every month I would have been quite upset with you.” Jim put on his serious face and took a sip from his mug in order to draw out the anticipation of the remainder of the sarcasm that was sure to come. But there was always more to come, even when one point had ended.”If you ever make a big purchase like that one I would expect you to at least share the wealth.”

Before now Jim had never had a reason to miss anything when he went on business trips. When there was nothing tying you down or giving you a reason to want to remain in one place, there was nothing to look back on fondly as he laid in the over stuffed, ridiculously comfortable bed. You couldn’t miss what you’d never had. But now? Now as Jim tossed and turned among the unnecessarily large amount of pillows he found himself wishing that he were in that cheap, lumpy bed with the sheets he was certain would one day give him a rash. The blankets were plenty enough to keep him warm but it didn’t do even close to the same as his body 'pillow' did for him. It had taken him a second to figure out just _why_ he hadn’t felt right in the hotel room the first night, but when he’d gotten an incoming text it had hit him. That was why it didn’t feel right. Greg wasn’t there.  
“Yeah, but every journey has to start out somewhere. You’ve officially made your way down the yellow brick road and Dorothy, there ain’t no turning back until you and Toto are home free. And there are definitely many, many advantages to being brought forth into the future with the rest of us.” He nudged, trying to keep Greg encouraged in his own way. This video chat, for example, was a fine reason to come to terms with the newer technologies. Or at least Jim certainly thought so. He looked at Greg in the screen with a smile that was void of all sarcastic or amused undertones for the time being. It seemed that Greg may have been on the same page judging by his expressions. Jim realized that he was probably showing a bit more of how he was really feeling than he’d meant to, even if he didn’t feel as weird about it as he would have expected. He put his mug down and then leaned back, crossing his arms. “They even have these nifty little gadgets now where you can have _interactive cyber sex_. It’s all the good things about sex without the bad.” Jim had started to throw a light jab at him in there, but he couldn’t even quickly come up with something even mildly insulting about being with him at the moment.


	9. Dead Bodies and Discount Porn Emporiums

Greg let out a genuine laugh, not holding back at the comment of someone wanting an actual dead bride. The laughter wasn’t denial that there were people out there with that preference but it was to enjoy the fact that even with a failed mail order bride, Jim was making lemonade out of lemons here. Don’t be sad you’ve got a dead woman delivered to you, turn to necrophilia. The laughter only increased when Jim actually stopped himself to say things got dark. “Aww, you forget. I use to clean your messes, dear. We’re well past ‘dark’ I think.” he teased through a chesire grin. Not only had Greg see Jim’s handiwork first hand but had seen many other, lesser criminals work as well and it didn’t stop when the other went away. Honestly, if there was one thing both men could take too light hearted it would be dead bodies, one because he put them there, the other just to cope with that he’s seen.

“How would I know that ‘From Russia with Love’ would upset when all my purchases at Big Al’s Discount Porn Emporium have gone unnoticed. Don’t even get me started on the payments to those Japanese doll thingy companies.” Greg lost it near the end, forgetting what he was suppose to call those real dolls he’d seen on the tv, the laughter was pouring around every word. It was incredible to have this, the rhythm of talking to someone who spoke your language, even if he cracked himself up before getting all the words out, though part of that was to be blamed on the joy that was at the start of this conversation. Greg should have been upset at the thought of Jim checking his credit card statements, that’s what happens with regular people when a statement like that is thrown around, but not Greg and Jim. Their logical response there was to make up charges on your statement. Narrowing his eyes at Jim’s next comment, a skeptical look on his face, having a hard time thinking Jim would want a mail order bride but went with “I’ll remember that next time I get the urge for some Siberian sweetheart.”

There wasn’t really much shame in the older man and his lack of technological knowledge, he’d gotten by just fine in life thus far and sure all these things made life easier in some respects but they weren’t all necessary. If Greg really was Dorothy, Glenda had barely pointed him down the right path, munchins could still be heard singing songs, but he was, in fact, on the right road now and only getting closer to Oz. “So is this where I make some crack about you then being the scarecrow? Feels a bit beneath me. Baby steps, yeah? Few things here and there and I should be fine but I’m still reading the actual paper every morning!” He smiled, poking at Jim’s constant reading of iPad which wasn’t near as satisfying, the crinkling pages and the smell of ink, it was better in Greg’s mind. Of course Jim couldn’t leave it at something normal, Greg’s eyes nearly fell out of his head they went so wide hearing the words ‘interactive cyber sex gadgets’ (never mind that he was talking about ordering sex dolls) “You ever feel the need for _that_ gadget and we’ve got bigger problems than just your dependency on technology.” Greg was able to give back once he’d recovered from the thought of such thing. Shaking his head, he relaxed back in his chair, grabbing his nearly empty mug as he did. Reaching up he tipped the screen so it was easier for both him to see and Jim to see him and made himself comfortable.


	10. Japanese Doll Thingies

Jim had never thought that he would prefer the sound of someone else’s laughter to his own, but here he was grinning and feeling pride begin to gather inside of him as the sound of Greg’s came through the speakers and filled his ears. He really enjoyed knowing that he was the one who had managed to evoke such genuine amusement from the man, especially since he wasn’t the easiest to crack up with his dry sense of humor. It was a reminder of how good a fit the two really were, which was something that was much appreciated as their opposing career choices popped up into his head on a regular basis. It had been increasingly easier to bat the thought away as time went on and the other became more 'Greg' than 'Detective Inspector Lestrade' to the point where it barely phased him anymore, but it was still nice to be reminded why the issue had become so irrelevant.

"Shit," Jim muttered and let his head hang slightly and shook his head in disappointment as though Greg were really supposed to believe that a necrophilia crack was too dark for someone like him. Hardly. Jim had yet to actually figure out where his line was, or if there even was one anywhere in his mind. His mind was like the ocean; seemingly endless, barley explored by the outside world, filled with desolate darkness, and downright frightening at times. "Suppose you won’t be buying the whole ‘it wasn’t me’ crock, will ya?"

Greg didn’t have to worry about Jim checking his credit card bills. While he may have every now and again just out of pure curiosity or because he had officially taken on the role of the man’s financial advisory, there wasn’t much that Jim would actually get upset over. Just about the only thing that would do that would be something that pointed to the fact that Greg was seeing someone else and Jim was quite confident in the fact that he didn’t have to worry about that with him. And if it did happen Jim probably would have been able to tell by the smell of guilt radiating off of the man before he even got a chance to check the credit card bills. “Of course those haven’t been mentioned. Three fourths of those purchases were made by me. I am not nearly dimwitted enough to squeal on myself,” he joked with a grin that quickly widened at Greg’s words. ' _Japanese doll thingy_ companies,' Jim repeated as his shoulders began to shake with repressed laughter. When he could no longer hold it back he dropped his head and brought a hand to his face as he laughed at how ridiculous the thought of Greg not owning one of those ‘doll thingys,’ but actually calling to order one as he would likely have trouble finding the website. “Gregory Gael, you a sick and twisted individual. I would prefer that you keep your…” He could no longer keep even the slightest of serious demeanor and fell into another fit of laughter. “Jesus fucking Christ…”

Jim scoffed and shot Greg a look of clear offense. “Excuse you? I am _clearly_ Toto, you twit. You take that back. Scarecrow. Just who do you think you’re talking to?” The grin slowly began peaking its way through the poker face and at the jab towards his reading the news on the iPad he simply shrugged. In truth Jim preferred the printed word to anything technological but more often than not it was just far more convenient. He was able to pull up the news in any small town around the world in seconds and was able to carry hundreds of books with him at once rather than lugging his leather bound editions in a gigantic knapsack.

For reasons he blamed solely on his drowsiness, Jim had been taking a drink of the hot coffee when Greg’s face transformed into that of a cartoon’s in front of his eyes. Unable to keep from laughing at the sight, a little bit of the liquid dribbled from his mouth, but he considered that a success as he’d managed to keep the majority of it in. He quickly set the mug down and brought his hand to his mouth to haphazardly wipe some of it away, flicking his hand towards the ground to further rid himself of it. “Don’t worry,” he chuckled as he looked around the desk for something to properly wipe himself off with. When he came up with nothing it would have made sense to get up and find something, but for whatever reason (be it laziness, comfort, or the fact that he didn’t feel like leaving the computer) he didn’t. He brought his knee up and with only a moment’s hesitation wiped his mouth on the flannel of (Greg’s) his pants. “I may be a wee dependent on my gadgets and doodads, but what I’ve got is well worth the wait, thanks.”


	11. What I've Got is Well Worth the Wait

The mock disappointment was (cute) delightful, Greg bit back laughter as he watched it. Jim was a professional at that stuff, he knew when and how to act to make you feel what he wanted and though Greg didn’t always buy what he was being sold it didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the show. There was a breath of relief when the crack about Jim’s profession went smoothly. It wasn’t a common point of discussion and while the conversation had been incredibly light and happy, things could change in an instant. Talk about how their jobs intertwined could have been one of those topics but what had been said was harmless and, thankfully, was seen as such. With an exaggerated ‘dad look’ Greg shook his head no. “Not a chance. I’m smarter than that.” he teased, giving a little wink before letting out a bit more laughter. It was always nice to hear ‘I can’t get away with that with you’ instead of ‘oh surprised you noticed’ but, then again, not all geniuses were made the same way.

Honestly, Greg didn’t care if Jim really did check his credit card statements, bank statements, 401k, it didn’t matter to him because he had nothing to hide. This wasn’t even something that went under ‘Jim could find out if he wanted to without the statements’ but was simply that there wasn’t anything he didn’t want Jim to see. Guilty people hide things and Greg knew that (in more ways than one). There was a dramatic eye roll and an equally dramatic huff “Stop using **my** credit cards for **your** porn!” Greg worked as hard as he could to pretend to be upset over this but it hardly lasted a few seconds before the smile was creeping back on his face. Try as he might he really couldn’t be anything other than happy right now and it was interesting, he wasn’t sure when that feeling happened. When did just _talking_ to Jim brighten his day? Because it really had. Then again, when something is always there you take it for granted.

He’d never say it, hell he’d barely admit it to himself but Greg wasn’t exactly sleeping well either. Maybe he didn’t lay on Jim but that extra weight on his own body, that other person breathing and touching him and just being there mattered. It wasn’t there, it was strange to sleep without all those little things Greg had grown accustom to. He managed just because his body would give up and take sleep. Jim, at least, was able to sleep in a strange bed so that told the brain you aren’t home so don’t expect the comforts of home. Greg was sleeping in the same bed every night which seemed worse to him.

There was so much to react to in one half-sentence. Furrowing his brow at both his first and middle name being used because, lets face it, at this point he was never going to be anything but ‘Gregory’ to Jim so there was no use pouting over that. As if Greg hadn’t heard it all his life anyways, he’d wished for decades that his parents would have just named him as such since it’s so widely assumed. The reaction to his name was cut short as he was called ‘sick and twisted’ something that caused Greg to puff slightly with pride and nod his head in agreement as he waited to find out why. That’s when the icing was put on the cake, Jim couldn’t even finish his sentence! God, Greg loved when he flustered the other man, it usually happened because Greg had done something ridiculous but he didn’t care at all. Every time it happened it was a small victory. As Jim sat at his computer laughing, Greg was pumping his fist in the air a couple times in celebration. “Excuse you, indeed. I said I was _beneath_ calling you the scarecrow.” Greg said frankly. “But if you wanna be the dog, by all means. Way to aim high. You can be damn sure I ain’t carrying you in a basket though.”

The victories weren’t over. Watching Jim drool over himself was more than worth this call, this was why he needed to see things because over the phone Greg would have missed that glorious moment. Sucking his lower lip in and biting it to keep from laughing, trying to play it cool so Jim could do the same, Greg watched as he wiped his mouth on the pants. The smile that appeared on Greg’s face was different, this was more pride, he was beaming at watching Jim be a slob and wipe his mess off on his clothes. “You’re…you’re too much sometimes.” he praised. Hearing the ‘what I’ve got is well worth the wait’ caused Greg to look down, to avert his eyes, embarrassed almost. “Damn right it is.” he said far quieter than anything he’d said that night.


	12. A Glimpse at the Other Side of Things

Jim knew that Greg was a smart man. He may not have been anywhere near his on level of intelligence, but he had yet to find someone who was. Even the great Sherlock Holmes couldn’t meet find his way there, which, in Jim’s twisted, blasphemous, narcissistic yet brilliant mind, meant that he was a god among men, and to compare an average man to that of a god was just downright _ridiculous_. Jim never expected Greg to know the things that he did because of course he didn’t. But rather than mocking him for not knowing (which, granted, he did occasionally, but it was almost always in good fun), he would often push or bait the man in order to push him farther and stretch his mind further so that his knowledge might grow. Jim was a show off, certainly, but he also loved nothing more than a good challenge, and the smarter the person you were up against, the harder it was to show off. So by pushing Greg he was helping the both of them.

Jim’s bottom lip extended into a slight pout and he played up the puppy dog eyes a bit as he looked directly in the camera for Greg to get the full effect. “I never said it was _my_ porn,” he mumbled, though he made sure it was loud enough for the mic to pick up and him to be heard. He added a sniffle for good measure. “I thought it could be _our_ porn. But I guess you’re too busy with your _doll thingy_ to be bothered by taking just a small sliver of time out of your day to sit down and watch a simple porno with me. I didn’t really think I was asking much, but I guess I’m just being selfish…”

Greg’s eccentric celebration had not gone unnoticed and if he hadn’t already been laughing, he definitely would have done so at that point. “I personally thought I was being humble, but waaay to shoot me down. That’s the last time I go that route. Remember this the next time you trip over my ego.” He replied as he came down from the fit of laughter. He let a hand drag down his face as the last few loose chuckles escaped him. “I could have easily said I was the good witch who encouraged you down the path in the first place. You would be nowhere without those ruby slippers, love. It comes down to the shoes. It always comes down to the shoes, no matter how much you swear otherwise.”

"Oh, fuck off," he said with a small laugh in reply to him supposedly being ‘too much.’ It was true and anyone who said otherwise would have been an idiot, but Jim wasn’t about to admit it. He was looking around the room for something he could use to clean up a bit better now that he was realizing just what he’d done (it had been his first instinct for some ungodly reason and now he was finding it hard to ignore the fact that there was a wet spot near his knee and that his mouth was still a bit sticky). He’d picked up the hotel phone that was sitting just to the side of his computer and was holding it to his ear with his shoulder when Greg’s quiet response reached him. He started to just ignore it and pretend that he’d been too preoccupied to notice, but he couldn’t help himself and said, "Damn right it is," with a wink to emphasize the point before someone picked up.

When there was the distinct sound of someone picking up on the other line Jim held a finger to his lips to tell Greg to be quiet and turned the volume down on the computer just slightly. “Yes, I was wondering if there was any way that I could, uhm, bother you all for a sandwich? That would be, I mean that would just be positively lovely. Ham, please. Oh, no. No, no no. No cheese. I’m lactose intolerant, sir. No, it’s okay. I’m not angry. Yes, that will be all. No, oh no! Actually could you all maybe bring me some extra napkins? I’m just a mess tonight. Yes, yes certainly. Very good. Thank you, sir.” When Jim hung up the phone he dropped the fake Swedish accent he’d been using and the uptight air about him that he’d gotten when he picked up the persona he’d been using when he could be seen by the public in the hotel. He turned back to the computer and turned the sound back up, though he was already glaring slightly at the image of Greg (though he was also trying to hold back a smirk), just waiting for what he might have to say. “I really should have hit the mute button before I made that call.”


	13. Chapter 13

It might not have been noticed by Greg but there were small things that had started to happen as result of Jim pushing him to increase his intelligence rather than insult what he did. He was reading more at night, not that he didn’t before but it use to take months to work through a novel between work and the telly being more ‘interesting’ (mindless) but now it was a week or two and he was on to the next. What he was reading had changed too but with Jim’s seemingly never ending recommendations it was easy to have plenty to read rather than buying something in hopes it was up your alley. They both kept up on current events and that was a constant point of discussion, if not debate, and it only encouraged Greg to be armed with facts. Let’s face it, being right was important to both men. In the most backwards way, Greg was becoming more informed, hardly genius levels of anything but he seemed to do just fine. Without the knowledge he was really improving his intelligence on top of things.

That stupid pout, god Greg loved hated that thing. Jim already had those unnaturally large eyes but when they were made wider to pout, your heart would have to be made of stone to not give in, even a little, no matter how fake the pout was. There was only so much Greg could even protest the face since he was just as guilty of using his own faces to get things. Jim hardly made it secret which ones worked and which didn’t. “Ever the big heart, James. My god!” Greg cheered with such ridiculousness as pouting over porn deserved. “Since you bought it for us the very least I could do is watch it. I’m sure you’ve picked out only the most fantastic videos.” he teased, remembering a certain cop version of things he’d been subjected to.

Suddenly it was getting hard to be separated, there was the clear perk of talking through video but with all the laughter and the faces, the jokes and insults, and just everything it was becoming harder to deal with the fact that Jim wasn't next to him. There couldn’t be a playful shove to show false protest or pulling him close just because he could. Why it was the comments about Jim’s ego and being humble were what did it but that was. It was easy to ignore because the following comment, one which placed a mental picture of Jim in some flowy pink dress, fluttering down from the sky to point him on his way, was too good. “Always comes down to shoes?” Greg laughed “No wonder you couldn’t believe I had three pairs” he shook his head. Three was selling himself a bit short, five was more like it. Though it was hardly news the two didn’t see eye to eye on the fashion front. Smiling wide at the screen, the longer this went on the harder it was to wipe the stupid, giant grin from his face, not that Greg had any interest in doing so.

Being told to fuck off was one of those things that should have sent Greg over the edge, who would want to hear such a thing but it was coming from Jim. Things were just completely different between the men and hearing that was as good as any bit of affection or kind words, in fact they were usually said with far more love than when the average couple said kind things with. It only caused the grin to grow, revealing his teeth now. Watching as Jim looked to be doing something, eventually picking up the phone, Greg was confused and his face showed it, trying to figure out what was going on. When the other picked up the phone, Greg worried he was keeping Jim from some buisness. He hadn’t checked to make sure it was a good time to call, he was so worried about the surprise aspect of things that making sure it was okay never crossed his mind. It should have. Hearing his words repeated back to him, confirmation, agreeance, whichever it was made Greg feel…well, he didn’t really have a word for this feeling. Hearing he was worth the wait, having it confirmed again, it was the kind of thing one doesn’t hear often and certainly not these two. He was sorting through several different emotions at once when Jim started talking to the voice on the end other end.

Being silenced like that wasn’t necessary, the phone itself was a hint that it was time to be quiet. Still, Greg didn’t speak, he used the time to try and sort out everything flying around his head. There was some shock for both the accent which Jim spoke and the fact that he was simply ordering a sandwich. It reminded Greg he hadn’t eaten, too excited to make his date, but he wasn’t hungry and there was plenty of time in the night still. He wasn’t sure what Jim was playing at, the fake accent (no matter how good), the lactose intolerance, it was strange. No matter how much he wanted to, he wouldn’t question it. Work was work and he didn’t need to know. It was better if he didn’t actually. When Jim came back to Greg, he smiled. “Mute button might of caused some problems.” he answered, frankly. If Greg couldn't at least hear what was going on it would have caused even more strange questions. Right now his biggest question was the accent, and worrying about that was pointless. It would have been hard not to think of worse things had he been left in silence.


	14. Planning Porn Movie Nights

“But of course. Everything I do comes from the bottom of my heart. It’s one of my biggest weaknesses, according to some, but I refuse to let that alter my actions. Anything I can do to make the world a little better for someone else,” Jim replied in a voice that would have seemed to have held the utmost sincerity to anyone who didn’t know any better. But there was a little bit of truth in that statement, though he didn’t acknowledge it even himself. He’d learned long ago that his heart was, in fact, his greatest weakness. Sentiment caused you to view things from a completely different side when it shouldn’t have been looked at from a side at all, but rather an outside perspective. For example, this trip was a simple business trip that was a regular thing for him. Nothing out of the ordinary, yet he found himself viewing it as almost an inconvenience at this point because the way he felt about Greg was getting in the way. Jim didn’t want to be in Australia talking to him via Skype. He wanted to be at home having this conversation with him where he could actually be next to him. Or even for Greg to be here with him so that they could be sharing the experience of sleeping in the ridiculously comfortable king sized bed. It was one of the many things Jim found himself wanting to share with the man on the other side of the computer, and amongst those things could have easily been porn. He not only didn’t care if Greg ever watched it, but would have gladly joined in. “Of course I did. I would never choose anything you would have no interest in viewing. And you certainly could. It would be ever so kind of you. I was thinking we might make a night of it when I get home complete with the popcorn placed strategically on my lap got you to grab at.”

Very rarely while on business did Jim use his native Irish accent, unless he was in Ireland which meant it was more common for someone to have it than not. People with odd accents were easier to remember and to be remembered was the last thing Jim wanted. It was why he had created an entire persona to disguise himself as so that it would be much harder to connect the dots. “Yeah, that is very true,” Jim agreed with a shrug. With Greg having heard the conversation that had happened he could at least be confident in the fact that what had been discussed wasn’t exactly dastardly. “But it would have been much more fun to leave you guessing.” For once Jim was glad he’d gone the less amusing route. He didn’t want Greg to be thinking about what might have went on in the conversation because that would have meant his mind would have wandered to what work Jim could have been doing, and he really didn’t want that. Not because he was afraid of the DI knowing, but because he didn’t want Greg thinking about those things and relating them back to him.

Relaxing back into the chair, Jim brought his feet up and crossed them under him. Even while sitting in a chair that refrained anyone from moving too awfully much, Jim was still Jim and could not remain in one comfortable position for too long without feeling the need to move or resituate himself in one way or another. “How many times have you treated yourself to your favorite grease buckets since I’ve been gone, hm? From what I can tell it’s been at least,” Jim took a quick survey to the things around Greg that were visible on his screen. He found himself rather surprised at just how little evidence there was to be found. He had suspected about double what he had found. “twice.”


	15. Sticking to the rules

Greg pressed his fingers against his chest, playing the flustered southern belle role as Jim went on about how his heart was his biggest weakness. Not that he was doubting it’s truth or mocking sincerity, this wasn’t the type of comment these two took with seriousness though. Greg may believe what he’s being told but rather than go on about how he agrees, that somewhere not-so-hidden is a heart, is concern for others, he’s seen it in small doses but he wasn’t about to call attention to it. That, and they were on the subject of porn. With a sigh followed by a smile, Greg threw his hand towards the screen to dismiss this ridiculousness. The very thought of ‘making a night’ of watching porn flabbergasted Greg, who does things like that? Then again he remembered who he was talking to, the words probably weren’t even a joke but when he got to the popcorn in the lap gag, Greg winced and put his hand over his face. Loudly to make up for what would no doubt be muffled words Greg spoke without moving his hand “The…it doesn’t work if I know that’s what you’re doing.”

It wasn’t Jim’s work that would have crossed Greg’s mind had the computer been muted during the phone call, hell, work was better than what he would have been thinking. Sometimes the past is hard to shake and no matter what Jim had done to convince him of otherwise there would always be a part of Greg that was just waiting for the other to find something on the side. That’s what people did in relationships after all. To have the other end of this call go silent when he could clearly see talking, Greg’s mind would have been filled with thoughts of who Jim was entertaining in his hotel. Nevermind how irrational the thought was, Jim hadn’t done anything to make Greg think that would happen, the past had and it was a thought that would always be nipping at things, placing doubt, Greg just had to not listen. The work? That was easy to put out of his mind.

It was hard to suppress the smile that was trying to grow on Greg’s face, he even sat up a little subconsciously. He was proud, really proud. Jim had been away for a week and a half and Greg had managed to not just let everything go to shit while the other couldn’t see. Not because he thought Jim could/would deduce it, there wasn’t showboating around the skills and sometimes Greg forgot Jim could until something backfired. No, Greg had continued like Jim was there. Same fancier beer, same fruity shampoo, same lack of ‘bad’ foods. Just because that’s life now, it’s better, everything is just better and why stop it? It wasn’t the food that improved his quality of life, of course, but it was part of this whole package, this everything that had come from picking up an injured criminal. Life was better. Finally letting the smile catch up to the one shining in his eyes, Greg innocently shrugged his shoulders. “Half a time? We went out for dinner after work and I kinda pushed us someplace nicer, more middle of the road.” rolling his eyes at what was going to come next “Oh, but I did have some fries at the pub.”   
This should have felt like coming clean to your dad, talking about the party you had in his house while he was away for the weekend. There should have been this undertone of guilt in what Greg said but it wasn’t there. Jim wouldn’t have cared if Greg had gone straight back to take aways every night and the gross ones at that. Sure he would have said stuff, that would be expected. Actually, Greg was proud of himself, there wasn’t guilt for when he did stray but pride for the fact that he’d managed over ten days on his own without falling back on bad habits.


	16. Marinating in Butter

Jim had convinced himself long ago that he had no heart and that it was for the best. He had worked for years to close that part of himself off and had very much succeed. Until recently when a certain detective inspector had managed to warm it enough for the ice to begin melting away so that little slivers of that of which he had long ago shut away were able to shine through in ways that only Greg would be able to recognize. Most who would have seen the ways that Jim showed sentiment would have scoffed at the sorry attempts, but Jim and Greg had an understanding; a language of their own which so very few people could comprehend. Jim was sure that that was one of the reasons the two got on so well. When you have someone that speaks your language, no matter how odd and out of the ordinary it may be, it is far easier to communicate as the communication barrier isn’t there to cause problems. A ‘fuck you’ between the two was not taken the same way it would have been taken if it had been said to anyone else and a shove or a punch to the arm could be taken as playfulness rather than abuse. Someone who spoke his language was something Jim had been waiting for his entire life. He had more or less given up on his dream of doing so when he’d found Greg.

With a chuckle, Jim watched as Greg brought a hand to his face, clearly doubting his choices in a mate or something similar, which was something Jim was sure he found himself doing on a regular basis. But even if that was what he was doing, Jim didn’t worry about it. It wasn’t like something like this was unusual for the man. The way he saw it, it was a part of his ~ _charm_. Life was boring when everything was predictable, after all. “Awe, you’re cute. See, I told you because if I hadn’t I would have had to wait until you had began to dig into the popcorn and the thought of having my cock just sitting in a mess of buttery nastiness isn’t exactly appealing. If you are aware of what is waiting underneath the top layer you very well may get there quicker and I won’t have to be marinating in butter while I wait.” He explained as thought it made perfect sense. 

Jim gave Greg a look that expressed how impressed he was and gave a nod of approval. He had expected Greg to keep up what life had more or less become while he was away, but to a point. There were many people who would slack off just because it was nice to have a break from having to keep everything up, but it seemed that Greg was doing a damn good job and Jim was quite impressed. “If you went to a decent restaurant the food would have been miles better than the takeout, so you have done quite well. I am proud of you,” He said honestly, giving the man a compliment that was actually genuine rather than disguised as an insult.

The squeaking of a cart being rolled down the hall slowly in an attempt to be quiet (which made Jim internally roll his eyes because it would have made less noise if the man had gone at a decent pace) caused Jim’s ears to perk up and he threw on his fake accent, speaking at a louder volume than he had been so that the man delivering his room service would be able to hear it muffled through the door. “Of course I have missed you, you silly, silly goose. I would be crazy not to be missing you. Sometimes I wish—” a knock at the door and Jim ceased talking, but made a face at Greg quickly to offset the fake conversation he had been having before continuing on. “One second, snookums. I believe that my midnight snack has arrived.” Jim stood up and made his way over to the door, but not before commenting in his normally voice, low enough for the man on the other side of the door not to be able to hear. “Or that mail order bride.”

Jim answered the door with a bright smile and a warm ‘hello!’ to which the hotel worker gave a similar smile and welcome. _'I did not know you had company, or I would have brought you a second sandwich,'_ the man said in a friendly tone. “Oh, no no. For sadly, I am alone on this trip. I was just speaking to my husband over computer.” Jim brought a hand to his chest (the one that was sporting a nice, golden wedding ring) and hung his head a bit. _’I am sorry, sir. It is hard to be away from loved ones.’_ Jim nodded and took the sandwich and handful of napkins from the other. “Yes, yes I am afraid it is. But thank you so much for delivering this here to me. I hope you have the most wonderful night.”

After shutting the door Jim’s face dropped the extremely friendly expression he’d been wearing and took a seat back in front of the computer. He casually tossed the sandwich into a nearby garbage bin and used the napkins to wipe the still slightly damp spot on his pants as well as his hands and mouth. He placed the excess napkins in an orderly pile next to the computer and opened his mouth to say something to Greg but a large yawn came out instead. His eyes closed and he brought his hand to his mouth to cover it, but there was no disguising this one. After it subsided Jim shook his head vigorously in an attempt to shake the drowsiness away and ran his hands over his face before turning back to the computer screen. “Sorry to be all pushy and force you into marriage and all, but I am afraid it was necessary. Not only was I cementing an alibi, but the main reason for our sudden marital bliss is that I am after that fortune you have sitting in your bank account as well as half of your possessions. I am really pushing for the couch, personally.”


	17. Chapter 17

The men may have spoke the same language, that much was certain, but it wasn’t their native tongue (love, affection, caring, it was all sort of strange to them both) Greg was more at the intermediate level. He knew how to converse, he could hold his own, and understand that which was said to him. Jim, on the other hand, was completely fluent and in all dialects, much like the man was with actual languages. In other words; Greg knew how to fling the insults, use the colorful language, have a lewd comments, but Jim was always going to get in the better one…every time. Even knowing this didn’t stop Greg from trying. Tonight’s conversation was evidence of this, things had gone from mail order brides (dead ones at that) to porn collections, now watching porn together, and now some horribly cliche gag with talk of butter marinated cocks. That was the one move above where Greg could compete, he sat there in his office staring at the computer, his mind racing. The mental picture having popped up, the thought of literally having a butter soaked cock, then the thought of him supposedly doing something with said cock, the obvious ‘if you wanted me to do something with it, why you hiding it in anything?’ thoughts, a bit of wondering who really eat popcorn whilst watching porn, and all capped off with the knowledge that this is really something that could happen to him raced through his mind. Somehow in all that he was expected to come with a comment to throw back! It was only a few beats of silence as Greg worked through the thoughts “Yeah, see. I know now…” he narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded his head “…I think I’ve developed a new, uh, phobia of choking on popcorn, yeah? So I’ll have to eat it really slowly so I don’t choke. It is a threat, ya know, gotta watch these things.” Flashing a grin, the mood had been too exciting to keep a stone face like he would have (or attempted to) normally.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Jim resumed a conversation they weren’t having and in that same accent as before. The accent didn’t catch Greg as off guard this time, he had sorted out that it was to do with why Jim was there from the first time just not why he needed it (not his business though). The words he was saying though, it just so beyond anything that the pair said to each other that hearing them come from Jim’s mouth, no matter the accent, was strange all by itself. Cocking his head, Greg watched this show, it wasn’t a conversation anymore it was a show, slightly confused. The loudest thought on this performance surprised Greg a little, he didn’t like this. He didn’t like be talked at, he didn’t like the accent that wasn’t Irish, the false affection was horrible. Ultimately, Greg was seeing something that he wasn’t suppose to, he became privy to the lies that went on in this other world of Jim’s and it didn’t sit right with him. Not because of whatever it was Jim was there to do but the lies. It was the deceit that was bothering him, how easily Jim just slipped into being someone else. For the first time, Greg was doubting something he’d gone months without so much as a single doubt. If it’s that easy to just be someone else, how did he know what he was seeing was real? Did Jim do this to him on a smaller scale? Obviously Greg would notice the accent change but what about other things? Was he just told the most appealing version? It was a lot of just one small momenst.

Giving a scoff and a shake of his head, Greg kept silent, providing the best reaction to the mail order bride comment as he could. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to talk, there wasn’t a signal to be silent but better safe than sorry. He didn’t want to listen to what was happening off the screen but it was hard not to. Greg had been referred to as the husband, he’d just, indirectly, become a part of this story. He was a cover story. Work was work and all that, he was far more involved now in Jim’s ‘work’ than he’d ever been before but it wasn’t like it was his face or his voice, for all the hotel employee knew there could have been anyone on that screen and that was somewhat comforting, Greg needed comforting right now. When he heard the thank you’s and the door closing he took a second to dismiss the thousands of things he’d been thinking and just be there waiting for Jim like nothing had gone on, which he’d barely achieved in time.

Jim was on screen again, settling into his seat and cleaning up his mess. The yawn did not go ignored, for as far as Greg knew, Jim didn’t require sleep. He was awake when Greg went to bed and awake when he got up in the morning. There wasn’t a time he could think of where he’d seen Jim look tired, he did look tired too. The familiar Irish accent was back and attempting to explain the show. Hearing he was an alibi in any way was hard to swallow but Greg did. “You keep harping on that damn couch but I’ve offered for us to go find a replacement and we never do. I’d be keeping the fucking thing, mail it to you it bits or something, I don’t know. I’d decorate the whole room around it.” He laughed slipping right back into what they’d had before the interruption. Effortlessly switching to a voice with a hint of concern “Speaking of your favorite place to sleep, what time is it there?” he figured he should probably let Jim go and get some sleep but Greg also didn’t want to end the call.


	18. Chapter 18

Jim didn’t want to involve Greg in his work. He had actually gone out of his way to make sure that he kept him far out of it. But to him he hadn’t actually thought that simply claiming to be talking to his ‘husband’ was exactly bringing him into it. It was simply solidifying the story that he had started to sell to the hotel employees two days ago when he’d checked in. There was no way that he would have allowed anyone to actually see Greg’s face and if he’d had any thought that the other would have spoken while the employee had been there, he would have muted the computer. That was the one mistake that Jim felt he may have made, but he didn’t even exactly consider it a mistake as there hadn’t been any issues. He wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself if there had been. But between Jim’s twisted, desensitized mind and his lack of morality there was no issue with what he’d done.

Jim chuckled and shook his head, even though he knew Greg was right. He’d been given the go—ahead to help him choose a new couch, but he had been rather busy lately and by the time Greg got home and he put his work to the side Jim just wanted to relax with the man. He had a feeling that there would be arguing when it came to choosing new furniture, even if it was just a small bit and may have been a bit playful, and he didn’t want to go through that when it wasn’t completely necessary. There had been enough fighting between them lately and any additional was something Jim wanted to avoid at all costs because as much as he enjoyed the arguing between the two of them when it was purposely provoked he certainly did not enjoy those that were unprovoked. It made him feel as though he’d fucked up the one thing that actually meant something to him. “Alright, alright.” he laughed lightly. “We’ll pick out a new couch soon so that I can find something else to bitch about. Sound like a plan?

Jim leaned back in the chair and stretched out a bit, putting his hands behind his head. The concern in Greg’s voice didn’t go unnoticed and it brought a small smile to his face. It was nice to know that someone cared enough to actually be concerned For a moment he considered telling the truth, but he did not want Greg to have any information about this business trip for Greg’s sake. Though he had little doubt that Greg would voluntarily spill any information about it, in Jim’s line of work you never knew what might happen if they caught onto who he had taken such a liking to (and that was one of the world’s biggest understatements), Greg would become an immediate target and the less he knew the better. For his own benefit. “2:34 am.” He lied, though kept it close to the truth. Jim ran a hand through his hair, leaving it tousled and messier than it ever normally would have been except for in the mornings before he took to flattening it a bit. “Why, you keeping tabs on me?” He joked, a smile on his face making it quite evident that he was doing so.


	19. More Sophisticated Asses

It wasn’t that he had been directly involved, Greg couldn’t have been any more in-directly involved in Jim’s cover story which he knew (or would know later when he sorted through his thoughts). This was just as close as he’d ever come to the pre-crime side of Moriarty and it was happening live and in front of him. There was always the clean up, the can’t-quite-connect-it-to-Moriarty-but-you-know-it’s-him side Greg had been on but right now he was seeing the before. Not only was he seeing the before he’d become an alibi, the men of the hotel didn’t see Greg nor did they get his name (Greg had full faith his real name wouldn’t have been used anyways) but Greg knew that’s what he was… **Greg** knew. That’s what was sitting with him wrong was that  he knew he was involved.

Every so often there was something Jim would do that made Greg feel that this was like every other relationship he’d ever had, most of the time it was the strangest one he’d been in - in perfect ways, all the right kinds of ‘wrong’. Then there’d be things that were ‘right’. Admitting you would just find something new to bitch about wasn’t what other partners would do but the fact that Jim would just pick a new improvement project was…and he would do it too, Greg knew that. Of course he didn’t care how long it took to get a new couch, that was an expense he didn’t need when he had a perfectly functioning couch sitting in his flat but there were more sophisticated asses sitting on it now. “Or, ya know, you could just stop bitching about the couch.” Greg tempted, knowing full well that wasn’t going to happen.

Still in the six o’clock hour for Greg, he had a night ahead of him, dinner, tv, maybe some reading but probably just more tv in bed. Even though he knew Jim was away, Greg still had the man on London time, it wasn’t until the other started acting tired that the thought came up that perhaps it wasn’t early evening where he was. Hearing half past two in the morning was shocking, not at all what Greg had expected. In a flash his eyes went wide followed almost instantly by furrowing his brow. That…it wasn’t acceptable to Greg. Jim might have stayed up that late at home but when you’re already asleep you don’t know notice these things, this was different though, at home Jim didn’t ever look tired and here he did. “Jim!” Greg almost instantly started in with the lecture, only to stop himself after the first word. “Clearly someone has to keep tabs on you! Go to bed you idiot.” It wasn’t that Greg wanted to end the call, in fact that was the last thing he wanted to do but he was selfish enough calling at such a late hour there was no need to continue for himself. Jim needed sleep.


	20. That One Time Greg Won (and Jim Admitted He Did)

Jim shot Greg a look of disbelief. Did he really think that he was going to just stop bitching about something he had been complaining about since the day he’d been brought into the flat? The man was clearly delusional or a little too hopeful for his own good. “You are kidding, right?” He asked with the look still on his face, his brow furred and his eyes narrowed slightly. “You have met me, haven’t you? I am offended that you would expect me to do something so ridiculous. Quit bitching about the couch. You know, you should go into comedy, dear. You would be a knock out hit.” His face softened and he laughed lightly, shaking his head. The fact that Greg was well aware that he would never actually stop complaining about it said a lot. Most people would be annoyed and it might very well be something that drive a couple apart. But while it may have been annoying to Greg, it never seemed to actually tear them apart. It was all (mostly) in good fun and while it often caused bickering it was the bickering that Jim often provoked to entertain himself and Greg as well to a point. Arguing seemed to be one of the two’s favorite pastimes.

The look on Greg’s face when he was told just what time it was where Jim was made the man laugh. It was still partially amusing to him to have someone who was concerned enough about his well being to actually be that appalled at how late it was. “You cannot tell me what to do. Do y—y—you realize who you are speaking to?” He yawned which caused the statement be to a little less effective than he’d meant it to be. Now that he was thinking about it sleep did sound damn good right about now, especially since he wasn’t sure he could last another day on an hour of on and off sleep. He ran his hands over his face and kept his eyes closed for a moment before opening them and looking at Greg on the screen for a long moment while he considered his words. “Alright, maybe I should lie down. But not because you said so. Do not think for a moment that I am doing so because I am following your advice,” he said, pointing at him through the camera with narrowed eyes, though it was obvious that he was saying it all in good fun.

The only problem with this plan was that Jim did not want to end the call. He had been in higher spirits than he had been in over a week and he didn’t want this feeling to end. He’d had enough trouble sleeping already and the thought of hanging up on Greg in order to get a little bit of shut eye made him feel as though it would make it even harder to fall asleep. In other words, he had no intention of ending this call. “You are coming with me, though. That is my only stipulation in this. I will lay down, but I am not going to sleep. Just getting more comfortable.”

Jim picked up the computer and moved over towards the bed, the thought of falling into it seeming more and more appealing. He set the computer down in the middle of the bed and fell face first into it, almost instantly curling up slightly and moving under the comforter. He adjusted the pillows to his liking and brought one to his chest, wrapping and arm around it and pulling it close to him so that he was comfortable. He then moved the computer so it was easier to see Greg and he was better in view. “There. Happy now? I hate to admit it but I’m afraid it looks like you have actually won.” Jim let out a long sigh and buried his head in the pillow as though he were utterly ashamed at having to admit it. In truth he had come to accept that there were times when Greg had good points and would win. The weird thing was that he was okay with Greg winning every now and again. Actually he was not only okay with it, but he sometimes encouraged it or allowed it to happen.


	21. The Key to Winning is to Remain Humble

If anything, Greg’s concern for Jim’s well being had only grown over their time together. Not that it wasn’t a high level of concern at the start, that was different. Now it was the little things, he was starting to learn more about the little quirks and tells, the different tones of voice, or any number of other things you learn from living with someone. This meant things didn’t slip past him as much, even though there was so much that still did, Jim was a hard read after all but Greg was getting better. At home there were a few times where Greg knew it was time to be ‘tired’ so they could go to bed or that maybe it was time to suddenly need dinner. Jim seemed to not take care of himself, neglecting a lot of basic needs and Greg was okay with taking the fall, with conveniently being hungry because he couldn’t remember the last time he seen Jim eat. Staying up until two in the morning wasn’t the end of the world, Greg’s reaction was mostly made out of guilt for keeping Jim up at such an hour but it hadn’t seemed to be a problem until all the yawning of the last few minutes.

“Oh, I can tell you what do all I want” Greg said with a laugh, continuing on with joking around “…and you’ll listen too.” Telling a complete lie. He could, in fact, tell Jim what to do all he wanted, Greg could throw commands around until he ran out of voice but there was nothing he could do to make Jim listen to the orders, it never seemed to stop Greg, though, from giving orders. Jim needed a kick in the ass sometimes and Greg was absolutely not afraid to be that kick. Jim reminded Greg of those movies where the kid was protesting sleep but was still completely able to be scooped up and put into bed, their words were going against being put in to bed but their actions weren’t. Fairly sure that if he were in that hotel room, Greg could have picked Jim up and put him to bed with no protests (physically) from the other. It didn’t take much time until Jim was caving though (suppose that’s the perks of dealing with a grown man?) “Right, right. You’re doing this all on your own. I didn’t tell you to do nothing.” Greg teased, holding his hands up in dramatic resignation.

It was touching that Jim was taking the computer to bed, Greg was thrilled that the call wasn’t going to end, even if somewhere in his mind he knew it wasn’t going to be lasting much longer. Made him feel wanted above all else, there weren’t many ways to take this moment, it was clear Jim didn’t want to go, it didn’t need to be said, and that really made Greg feel…amazing, actually. Not that he would have but Greg didn’t call the other on the moment, just put his fingers to his forehead and saluted the screen. Soon it was shaky shots of the ceiling, the walls, flashes of Jim, as the computer was moved to the bed. Greg was feeling SO good, he passed up the chance to celebrate the victory of being deemed the winner. “Yeah, I’m happy now.” Greg spoke as though answering a completely different question. “Don’t think it’s fair you get to be comfy and I’m in this awful old wooden chair though.” he grinned, pulling the power cord from the side of the computer and picking up his coffee cup. “I’m going to grab a snack and some coffee and then I’m joining you in bed.” He grinned wide at the computer and picked up the computer making no effort to make sure Jim could still see him. Walking into the kitchen, Greg set the computer on the counter and poured the coffee then started to open the cupboard doors trying to find something small to eat, tide him over until he could get to dinner. “This place falls apart without you” he half-shouted at the computer from between two cupboard doors “There’s nothing to eat here!”


	22. I don’t know how you managed to actually survive before I came ‘round

It was hard to repress the smile at Greg’s claim that he could order Jim around, but he managed, glaring at him playfully with as much false venom as he could muster (which wasn’t much). “Keep tellin’ yourself that, Lestrade. We’ll see who can get who to do what they want. By the end of this month I’ll end up with a goddamn pony, just watch,” he joked, letting the smile show through after he’d finished with the joking threat. Though it was meant to be a joke, Jim knew that he could pretty much get Greg to do just about anything he really wanted him to do. Not only was he a master manipulator who knew just how to work the man (especially now that he’d spent so much time with him), but Jim couldn’t deny the fact that he was a little spoiled by the other. He thoroughly enjoyed it not because he needed it, but because Greg did it because he wanted to, not because he felt the need to like so many of the people whom he employed from time to time who were determined to impress him to prove that they worth while. But their attempts didn’t impress him. On the contrary they made him believe that they were trying far too hard and that they were absolutely pathetic. But Greg was neither of these things. He had no reason to spoil him like he did. Though it wasn’t what most might consider ‘spoiling,’ it was with them. Nothing between the two was exactly traditional. And Jim knew that he certainly enjoyed it that way, and it seemed as though Greg shared those feelings.

"Damn straight you didn’t. And you remember that, darling, because if you allow yourself to believe otherwise… well, you’ll be wrong," Jim couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic attempt at a threat. He was tired and couldn’t be bothered to even try and fix it by coming up with something more creative. It wasn’t worth the effort, especially since it was only Greg. If it had been anyone else he never would have let that ridiculousness go, but as always, things with Greg were different. He didn’t feel the need to assert his dominance or prove his just how dastardly he truly was. Especially when he’d been away from the man so long that it was beginning to take a toll on him. The need for proper insults weren’t as important right now as the amusement of the other and just being able to speak to him. "You bet your perky little ass I did it on my own. Don’t you go getting a complex, believing you have one upped me or something ridiculous like that." So what if he was lying? He couldn’t just admit that he’d agreed to something because Greg had told him to. If he had never said anything Jim would have sat in that chair until he fell asleep in some odd, seemingly impossible position.

There was no way Jim was ending this call so long as he could help it. This was the best thing to happen to him since he’d left the flat and made his way to the airport and he wasn’t going to give that up. Did it make him feel dependent? Not that he would ever say so, but it did just a little bit. But there were so many little things that caused the thought to enter his mind. The texts about being home late just as a heads up that some might consider ‘checking in,’ the fact that Jim slept on Greg most nights rather than next to him and found it incredibly hard to sleep if the man they weren’t touching in some way or other, how he would put his business aside in order to spend time with the man in order to spend time with him on his days off, particularly in the mornings when he had a day off. He refused to admit that it may have made him seem a little clingy or dependent, but he refused to acknowledge it as such. It wasn’t that he needed Greg, it was that he wanted him. He wanted to be close to him, he wanted to keep in contact with him, he wanted to be there when he woke up on his days off and just lay in bed for a few hours watching whatever movie he’d happened to put in the DVD player the night before (that Jim had been known to change because he wasn’t sure how much more ‘Die Hard’ he could take). He could manage without these things, but he enjoyed them. There was a big difference in his mind.

"So long as you’re happy," Jim said with slightly sarcastic undertones, though he actually kind of meant it. He had always been someone who cared about no one else’s happiness but his own, but recently he’d found himself quite invested in what made Greg happy as well. The way he saw it, the man made him happy, so why shouldn’t he return the favor? And on top of that he enjoyed knowing that he had made the other happy in one way or another even if there was no reason for it. The way he saw it, Greg deserved it. He was such a genuinely good man and not many people seemed to recognize that past the point that he was a police officer who was risking his life for the betterment of London’s citizens, and that tended to annoy Jim. Greg Lestrade was far more than a Detective Inspector. Far more. And it seemed that the most dangerous man in Britain (and quite possibly the world, as he had yet to meet anyone who could prove otherwise) was one of the few who could recognize this. When Greg picked up the computer, Jim was quite glad that Greg didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him because the criminal found it hard to not smile at the fact that he was going to lay in bed despite the fact that it wasn’t even 7 pm yet. He wouldn’t say anything, but goddamn that felt good. It was obvious that the act was being done for his benefit rather than Greg’s and it was a great feeling to be reminded just how much Greg cared. He was going to give up a part of his evening just to make Jim feel more comfortable. 

Jim watched as Greg moved around the kitchen and just being able to see the familiar surroundings made him feel more at home. The chipped paint on the cupboards, the black mark that was still there from when Greg had nearly burned the kitchen down, the opening and closing of the cabinet doors. It still felt rather odd to look at something through a computer screen and be able to call it home, but dammit, it as his home. But it wasn’t the surroundings that made it such, it was the man digging through the cabinets in search of food. Jim chuckled and shook his head, snuggling into the blankets a bit to make himself more comfortable. “I don’t know how you managed to actually survive before I came ‘round,” he half joked, a small grin on his face as he said so. Luckily for Greg, Jim had known that this would happen and he had taken precautions. “Go into the where the pots and pans are, assuming you are aware of where those are kept,” he teased playfully. “If you look towards the back there are a box of jaffa cakes, some canned food for you in case you feel like actually cooking something simple, and some twiglets.”


	23. Jaffa Cakes From Another Country

Greg was a pushover, there was no denying that. How someone could so firmly stand their ground when they wanted to but also give in so quickly seemed contradictory, yet it wasn’t. Standing his ground, holding firm on things was usually done for someone else’s benefit, for something they wouldn’t get for themselves or some injustice. Caving in was done for someone else’s benefit, to make someone happy usually. It was all the same side of the coin here, Greg was out to help others. Yes he spoiled Jim but it was because the man made him happy and he wanted to do the same in return. Greg wasn’t an actual gifts kind of man, he wasn’t going to come home with some expensive purchase for Jim, he wouldn’t know what to get, so Greg gave what he had and that was taking care of someone. He had no clue what it meant to the other, the knowledge of how much Jim did for himself or the fact that having someone care for him meant anything wasn’t something Greg was privy too, he just did it because he wanted to. He wanted to spoil Jim…to make him happy. “goddammit” Greg muttered under his breath “You would want a pony, wouldn’t you? Nothing cool, no, not Jimmy here, he wants a damn pony.” the man groaned but it turned into chuckles because the entire statement was just ridiculous.

Biting his lip, Greg smiled and took a breath. Wasn’t that precious? He’d be ‘wrong’. Well yes, that is what happens when you’re not right. Chalking it up to the time of night, Greg let it go, completely, “I know and who’d want to be wrong.” he smiled. Wanting to think there was a time that Greg wouldn’t let that comment slide but he always would for one simple reason; mentally he just won. He was the clever one if that was all Jim could come back with, didn’t matter how tired, how drunk, how anything Jim was, so long as Greg could put together a better comeback than ‘you’d be wrong’ he was the winner. So, in his head, Greg was running the victory lap and enjoying every step since it wasn’t something he got to do often. “No, I didn’t get the upper hand. I’ve a long way to go before I’m at that level but it’s good to have something to strive for in my old age.” Greg added, actually serious. He liked the challenge of dealing with Jim, that the man kept him on his toes, on his A-game at all times. That was refreshing.

The eventual trip to his bed was for Jim, mostly, Greg wasn’t lying about the uncomfortable chair, it wasn’t meant for prolonged sitting and certainly not the relaxing kind. A bit of it was actually for his own comfort. Why it seemed like a good idea, though, Greg couldn’t explain because he could have been comfortable on the couch, hell even the chair on the other side of his office, the one Jim often occupied, would have been better but his brain said to climb into bed too. Maybe it was because Jim was acting so reluctant, help him not be so alone? Greg didn’t question it, it was just the right thing to do.

Though he was eating well, not depending on takeaways and shitty restaurants, without the constant shopping list chiming on his cell phone Greg didn’t know what to buy and hadn’t really bought much in the way of groceries since Jim left. The past two nights he’d had sandwiches for dinner, figuring the nice sliced meat from the store Jim makes him shop at was better than the cooked-in-grease burgers from the joint on the way home. Supplies were limited at home and he didn’t buy anything for dinner, he was afraid after just having been praised that he was going to have to mess up and order something he shouldn’t. That was a problem he’d deal with later, Jim was informing him of a secret stash of treats. Greg wasn’t about to start cooking right now, even though he easily could and talk to Jim, it was working right now but, no, they were going to lay in bed and so that’s where he was headed. “Get fucked.” Greg called to the comment about knowing where the pots and pans are and knelt down next to the stove, opening the cupboard to find the jaffa cakes, that was good enough for now. “How you manage to feed me from another country is amazing.” Greg praised, dropping the box on the keyboard.

Picking up the computer and his refilled mug, Greg made way to the bedroom. He set the computer in the bed and climbed into his side, no blankets as he was still in clothes not his pajamas. Once he’d settled back against the head board Greg pulled his legs up and set the laptop on his knees, situating everything, screen, cakes, coffee, he was finally settled in. “There’s that whole ordeal.” He joked about how much ‘work’ it was to get in his bed and comfortable. Opening up the packet, Greg pulled out one of the cakes and started talking as he pulled the pieces of the cake apart, setting the sponge part on the laptop and holding the chocolate and orange bit in his hand “Had to go to court today, the fucking idiots they get to run that show…it’s…frustrating.” he whined before putting the orange jelly in his mouth. Greg was just talking to fill this silence, talking about his day like he would if Jim were next to him.


	24. Things Become Almost Normal

“I would absolutely love to get fucked, but I’m afraid the only person I have an interest in doing so with is over one thousand miles away.” Jim said, stretching out as Greg continued to move about. He had purposely had the kitchen stocked with food that Greg could easily prepare before he’d left. He hadn’t made it obvious (because to tell Greg that he was playing mummy and making sure he had enough food to make it while he was gone probably wouldn’t go over as well as doing it inconspicuously), but he had made sure that there was enough. Jim laughed and shrugged while from his lying position, grinning at Greg through the computer. “What can I say? I’m just that damn good.”

Jim watched Greg situate himself with a sleepy smile on his face, not paying enough attention to try and hide it in any way. He felt more comfortable already with Greg being there and being able to see their bedroom. But there was something still not right about it. For a moment Jim considered leaving it be, but then he wouldn’t have been Jim. “Take your shirt off,” he complained in a voice muffled by the pillow in front of his face, though he had spoken loud enough for his voice was still be heard. It didn’t seem right for Jim to by lying in bed with Greg as close to ‘there’ as he could manage and for him to be sitting there in a t—shirt. The man never slept with a shirt (which was something Jim was damn grateful for more often than not) and at the moment Jim wanted to be as close to home as he could manage. That and maybe there was another advantage to his request, but that wasnt the real reason. So he continued in a tone that conveyed the fact that he was kidding. “Come on, it’s been a long week and I wanna show. Show me what you got, Lestrade.”

Jim’s chin rested on the pillow beneath him as he listened to Greg speak and eat the biscuit that had been stored away for situations such as this. He couldn’t help but snicker a bit as some of the crumbs fell from the other’s mouth, but it wasn’t mockingly. In fact its was ridiculously odd and atrocious, but Jim almost found it endearing. It reminded him of home. The same went for the menial chattering about how Greg’s day had gone. Jim never really minded listening, but now he appreciated it more than ever. “You were in court room two, weren’t you?” He inquired casually and then proceeded to speak about the judge’s personal affairs as though it were common knowledge, which it most certainly was not. “It is bad enough dealing with those people on a regular basis, but Judge Tasket is going through one hell of a separation and is dealing with it by popping some of her favorite white pills. Her fault, though. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions so quickly.”


	25. Stacks of Cash and Strip Shows

There was almost a groan and Greg was heading back towards the laptop to stare it down for the comeback Jim gave to the ‘get fucked’ comment. It wasn’t an offer. Before he could make in in that direction, before he could muster up all the needed frustration, Jim fixed it. No, saying he ‘fixed it’ wasn’t doing the comment justice, Jim made Greg feel amazing with one comment. The one weakness, Greg’s surefire achilles heel in a relationship was fidelity and just hearing that he was the only one Jim wanted, because he was actually hearing it, was the best things Jim could possibly say. It wasn’t a matter of thinking Jim would cheat, though the whole little road show Greg had witnessed had planted strange seeds of doubt but parts of that were being lifted as he repeated the words over in his head, again and again, he was the only one Jim wanted. God that felt nice. “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t my idea to send you that far away.” Greg rattled back so matter of factly, Jim was the one who decided to travel.

Comfortable in bed, Jim continued to be…Jim. Requesting that Greg took his shirt off caused the man to look at the other with a look that said ‘you can’t be serious’. Not because he was uncomfortable with the idea, Greg didn’t care, it was just between them and it was only his shirt, but it was because that’s what was being asked of him. What could that possibly do? With a roll of his eyes, he put everything to the side so he could move the laptop and comply with the request when the rest of Jim’s statement came. A show? Oh god! Greg’s cheeks actually tinted pink at the thought of doing something like that, taking off his clothes like that, putting on a show for someone halfway across the world. He closed his eyes for slightly longer than a blink “I ain’t doing that show for free” he finally gave back. “So until you’re here with a stack of bills, I’m not performin’” with that Greg set the laptop down with enough of himself in view and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room. “That’s as far as it’s going tonight” he said as he pulled the laptop back on his knees.

Following the jelly center, Greg ate the cake part as he listened to Jim, nodding his head to confirm he was in court room two. The talk of the judges problems actually slowed Greg, listening to the words. It was pure gossip and he didn’t need to know any of it but he liked to. Separation? Pills? Jesus no wonder the woman was horrible to deal with. “She shouldn't jump to conclusions so quickly?” Greg repeated back. “Just what you want in your judge. Someone with poor decision making skills.” huffing a sigh for how little that all worked out to his benefit. “Gotta go back tomorrow, innit gonna be better is it?” asking a man continents away and who wasn’t involved but they both knew the answer to that question it’s just talk of work only got Greg so far and he was trying to stretch the best he could without sharing the details, which he never liked to do, it was that unspoken policy.


	26. He Didn’t Need Sex But he Did Need Greg

Jim watched as Greg’s expression changed while the comment set in. It felt good to be the one to have done such a thing,but only because the person he’d done it to was Greg. He didn’t give two shits how he made anyone else feel, but with Greg it mattered. It mattered a lot. It mattered more than any anonymous sex that he could have been having. While Jim may have been something of a whore at times, he had always been so for his own entertainment, mostly, not need. He didn’t need the kinky sex or someone grabbing at him whenever he walked by. While it was fun, he had finally found something that beat out ‘fun’ on his list of priorities, and that thing was wasting his afternoon talking to him while he could have been doing anything else. He didn’t need sex, but he did need Greg. Because for some reason he hadn’t wanted to send him this far away whilst anyone else would have jumped at the chance. “You cannot tell me you haven’t had the though of doing so at least three times a week.” He partially joked with a small laugh. Jim knew he could be a handful (and then some), but again, Greg somehow managed to hold on when no one else would have had the patience or willpower to do so. Why would he want to mess things up with the one person who willingly put up with him and even seemed to miss him when he was gone? He didn’t. 

At the look he received, Jim let out a whiny groan and buried his head in the pillow like the child that they both knew he could be. “Just do iiiiit!” He whined through the pillow, though it was more for effect than anything. If he really wanted to get Greg to do what he wanted there were much more effective ways to do so. His childlike behavior was (almost) always to be dramatic and to amuse himself in the process. Unable to resist, Jim let out a wolf whistle once the shirt was finally off and a lopsided grin sat contentedly on his face. He had settled back down against the pillow like a normal human being might and was now watching as the color rose in Greg’s cheeks, which was visible even through the computer to someone with a keen eye like his. “Don’t go making promises you can’t keep, big guy. If I come home with a stack of bills now I fully expect a show,” he said with a wink, though he wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. Only time would tell.

Jim’s eyebrows raised in agreement to Greg’s comment about her decision making skills. “The woman was horrible enough beforehand. Now she’s unbearable, I’m sure. I often find myself questioning just how the judicial system is judged and how some of these pathetic excuses for law enforcement are chosen.” He replied with a sympathetic nod and a quirk of his lips. “But clearly you were a first round pick. Maybe second, depending on what that year’s drafts looked like. You probably didn’t stand a chance against Andy Griffith. The man was a gem back in those days.”

“It probably won’t be for most. But it very well could be or you.” Jim said, shooting Greg a look that indicated that he had a plan. He always had a plan. And if he didn’t be sure as shit would come up with one. “Wear that deep purple shirt that you argued with me about getting. Make sure it’s crisp, though, or you may very well end up fucking yourself over. Even attempt to iron it if you are truly set on winning her over. She cares about style and presentation quite a bit and respects those who do as well. The black tie shall do, but make sure you wear one. I know you would rather a noose, but one day shan’t do too much harm to your ego. It will do you more harm if you decide not to wear it.” Jim attempted to stifle a yawn and brought his hand to his mouth to cover it. “A simple pair of black slacks shall do, but make sure they are not wrinkled. And then the fitted blazer we purchased last week would be your best option.” He nodded, confirming his statements. If Greg looked presentable the judge would be far more likely to treat him fairly and with respect. “Oh, and do shine your shoes and be sure your hair is in order. If you miss the little things the rest tends to fall to shit.”


	27. Andy Griffith Has Nothing On Greg Lestrade

Greg had never truly been ashamed of his body or showing it off. A few years ago he’d have done so without prompting, he didn’t mind, but there was something about the focus being entirely on him, that it was made into a performance that was getting him. He didn’t mind, of course, it made him feel good but he couldn’t hide how strange it was to have someone want to see that (after all these years). The wolf whistle caused a few reactions in the man, an involuntary smile grew on his face but he turned his gaze downward, almost embarrassed but it was more over how good it made him feel. In slow motion, Greg shook his head no, there wouldn’t be a show, no matter what his big mouth said he wouldn’t be able to make good on that. It would be one of the most awkward strip shows there ever was. “You couldn’t afford me.” he gave right back though, potentially getting himself in a bit deeper but he was feeling good and he wasn’t going to let Jim have the last word.

‘Pathetic excuses for law enforcement’? Greg’s mouth dropped opened slightly and he tilted his head in question, it’s true that there wasn’t a single man (or woman) that Greg worked with that could catch Moriarty, even the ones they brought in special couldn’t, but Greg was a prideful man and he took pride in what he did, no matter how much room for improvement there was. He’d always strived to be the best (thus his enjoyment of the cat and mouse with the criminal elite here) and he took that comment more to heart than it was meant and he knew he was. Greg KNEW Jim was joking, the comments afterwards helped solidify that, but that’s the awful thing about pride, that’s why it’s a deadly sin. “Second round my ass.” Greg scoffed without missing a beat “I was one of them blokes they pluck right out of school because they know they’ll be great” as he spoke Greg’s chest puffed, clearly overcompensating for the blow before.

Jim was able to pull Greg’s focus back to the conversation quickly though, he was all ears when it was hinted that there was something he had to offer to help Greg. He’d take anything, really, and he knew Jim was the kind of person you listened to in these matters. Winning over the public wasn’t an area Greg excelled in, pointers were welcome. But when he found himself in another conversation about clothes it was hard not to groan. Greg had never been fashionable and it seemed there was a reason; it was a lot of work to look ‘good’. He still listened because as much work as it was he couldn’t deny there was some merit in it all. “Believe it or not but I can use an iron.” he rattled back, just because he didn’t use one didn’t mean he couldn’t. It’d been a while though, at least since he went plain clothes detective. “Not only that but I wore a tie today!” the enthusiasm in being able to stick that to Jim was loud and obvious, like he’d won something. Greg always wore a tie to court, even if just in the court house and no place else, he knew when they were needed. The line was drawn at shining his shoes though. “You’ve gotta be shitting me, shine my shoes?” he groaned. Greg was starting to feel bad for keeping the conversation going, Jim was yawning mid-sentence but Greg could be selfish for a few more minutes, right? “I can handle that, if you really think it’d get me somewhere and make the whole ordeal bit more bearable, I’ll listen.” giving a single nod towards his computer.


	28. The Fashion Police Webshow

The reaction Jim got from Greg was absolutely adorable. It was clear that he didn’t get many compliments on his body anymore (because what men in their fifties, except for possibly George Clooney, got compliments like that thrown their way?), but Jim had no problem at all fixing that problem. He happened to love every bit of Greg’s body, from that goddamn grin that seemed would always be his Achilles heel to the chest hair that covered his torso. And then, of course, there were the more obvious features that need not be mentioned. So to know that his appreciation had been… well, appreciated, was nice. “Oh, don’t you go writing checks your ass can’t cash, baby. ” He laughed, knowing good and well that he could pay for anything he wanted. Except for Greg. Jim wasn’t sure the man would do so for all the money in the world. The stubborn old mule was a pain in his ass sometimes, but that made it much more fun. “What if we trade? I’ll give you a show if you give me one? I’ll even stick bills in your… wherever the hell you want ‘em, big guy.”

"Hell, with a body like that it wasn’t likely that there was much competition. I can only assume that there is a swimsuit competition involved in before the drafts of the newbies are made final. And I can only imagine how impressive it might have been back in the day." He joked, kind of, giving Greg a grin and a wink. He was rarely sure if he was truly joking when he made comments such as these or if there was more truth in them than sarcasm. Honestly he felt that the latter were more true. "You know, though," he started, running his hands through his hair and ruffling it a bit. "You were technically the only one who managed to catch me. You did what Sherlock Holmes couldn’t." He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disappointment and annoyance both. "I dropped so many more hints to that overrated, pathetic excuse for a ‘genius’ than necessary and he still didn’t get it. I gave the man my personal phone number, for Christ sake!”

Jim’s eyebrows raised in admiration at Greg’s talk of his outfit. “A tie. Have to say, Inspector, I’m quite proud of you,” He gave a lopsided smile, hoping that it was enough to show that his slight sarcasm was nothing but good fun. “It was the blue striped one, wasn’t it? That… no. No, no, no. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but that might definitely have been part of you problem. … and please tell me you didn’t wear your brown shoes.” Jim knew that Greg hadn’t the slightest idea about fashion and he didn’t really expect him to. But it was fun to poke fun and at the same time he was helping him learn. Soon enough he would even begin to understand which colors went best with which. “Yes, darling. Shoes shined. The whole nine yards. If you don’t she is going to be aware of what you are doing and that is just going to piss her off more.” He pointed out with a slightly sympathetic shrug. “But there is a place right down on 7th where you can sit back, read yourself the paper, and get them shined. It’s one of the few places left in the country, actually. You’re quite lucky it isn’t that far away, otherwise you may have had to actually do it yourself.”


	29. Chapter 29

The compliments were appreciated, Greg wouldn’t say as much, wouldn’t actually thank Jim but, then again, he never seemed to have to. The grin grew on Greg’s face as Jim continued to spar with him over the strip tease. “Innit you who’d be writing checks” he winked “Breakin’ the bank for a sh-” unable to keep going, Greg started laughing. The back and forth was his favorite sport these days, this topped rugby, football, all of it, having the proper competition in a game of wits trumped it all. Jim was able to compete too but he always, always bested Greg and for once in Greg’s life he didn’t seem to mind. He put up the fight, he held his own but they weren’t evenly matched and a win was never celebrated like an athlete (like Greg would celebrate if he bested Jim in this game) which made losing easier. It was hard to keep going with talk of performing a private strip show, wits or no, Jim had taken into the one area he was guaranteed a win. His eyebrow raised at the thought of getting a show in return though, Jim would be far too good at it…at least he was in Greg’s mind as he thought the scenario over. “Might be onto something there” he finally answered, taking far too long to think about the situation.

The compliments kept coming and it was hitting the level where Greg was uncomfortable, no one had praised his looks this much (other than himself of course) and it was strange to be hearing it all laid out there, no mistaking the meaning. Then it was all wiped out from under him. ‘imagine how impressive it might have been back in the day’ this wasn’t about how Greg looked now. Of course it wasn’t, he was middle aged, his body was slipping, he spent more time behind a desk and less in the field, he ate like shit (until recently), and he wasn’t what he use to be. He knew that, god how he knew that, nothing was a bigger reminder than having to start dating again in your mid-forties and tacking divorcee onto all that mess didn’t help him but Greg had slowly come to terms with who he was and how he looked, by the time Jim had come along much of that self consciousness was gone. Jim did a decent job of keeping it at bay but it was still there, nagging, just quietly. He was building the man up nicely so to hear that he must have looked great back then came as a bigger blow. Desperately trying to come up with something to say so it didn’t appear as though he’d been knocked back to reality that hard, Greg was coming up with little. “Where I really messed up was the Q and A section though, almost didn’t make it in.”

Greg stared in confusion again, he wasn’t an idiot, he didn’t catch Moriarty at all. He wasn’t on to him, he knew little of the details as Sherlock kept much of it to himself, and going to capture a man sitting and waiting for the cops to arrive hardly counted as a proper collar. Greg knew, he knew then and he still did now, he was allowed to catch Jim. He put those cuffs on because Jim wanted to be caught, why else would you just sit there and wait? As impressive as wearing the crown jewels would be, anyone who didn’t want instantly taken into custody would have fled. Greg didn’t know the bit about giving Sherlock the phone number though and that was interesting, why hadn’t Sherlock done more with that? Why did he drag the killing out? There were questions flooding the Inspectors mind, visions of people who died that didn’t have to because Sherlock was busy playing, it was a lot to process. Greg just stared at the computer screen, confused, unsure, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to reveal all that was going on in his mind, he didn’t want to take credit for something he didn’t do, and he certainly didn’t want to keep talking about Moriarty. For the first time that night, the man sat there in silence.

With a groan, Greg rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been a very fashion forward man in his life but that was slowly changing, he was listening to what Jim told him and after months of fashion tips and advice he’d taken in quite a bit of information and started to use it practically. He was able to know that Anderson was wearing the wrong shirt for that jacket or that the Superintendent’s tie was a knock off but he also had a long way to go. These days he was better at putting his own outfits together without mummy dressing him for court. “I didn’t wear my damn brown shoes!” he groaned, sounded not unlike a child being reprimanded which was an odd side of things for Greg to be on, usually he was the parent. “Won’t she be aware of what I’m doing anyways? I came in today in that striped one you like and a plain tie, didn’t iron nothing, didn’t shine nothing and then you want me to go in done up in my best? She’ll know, she’ll figure that out won’t she?” suddenly, Greg found himself far more invested in fashion talk than he wanted but he had to ask.


	30. A Dapper Looking Bastard

God, he’d missed this. Just the general, all around bullshitting that came with the two just being around each other (even if they weren’t exactly together, which Jim was beginning to dislike more and more as the night went on). “M’sorry, but I don’t write checks. I was actually hoping that you might accept credit cards. If you are doing it right I should be able to slide it right in.” He shot back, unable to help the victorious grin that overcame him when he realized that he had once again won. But of course he had. They were speaking of stripping and putting on a show. Even if Greg could manage to come out on top from time to time during their battle of wits, this time he’d never stood a chance.

Jim’s face laid against the pillow with a lazy grin situated just as comfortably as he was on his face as he kept his eyes on Greg, not even really noticing what he was doing. Not what he was doing, but he knew exactly what Greg was doing and it as amusing, interesting (one of Jim’s favorite things was watching Greg’s pupils dilate when he did something that caught the man’s attention and as he was paying attention, he could see it even through the somewhat grainy picture), and if he’d had any more sleep than he had in the past couple of days his ego probably would have grown quite noticeably, much like he was confident Greg was on a slightly smaller scale. But in his current state it made Jim feel more flattered and proud than victorious. “You are a dirty, dirty bastard, Greg Lestrade,” Jim joked, not bothering to hide his amusement. It as always fun when it was Greg’s dirty mind became more forthcoming than Jim’s because Jim rarely (if ever) bothered to repress his. That was a big part of the reason Jim would have no problem giving Greg the show he was no doubt imagining and not feel a bit of shame as he did it and performed like a true pro. Jim Moriarty did not half ass anything. “Can’t say I don’t enjoy it. Quite the contrary, in fact. Since you seem to be contemplating your options here, perhaps I could give you a sneak preview when I get home and then you can make your decision.”

To say that Jim was proud of Greg and the progress he’d made with improving himself would have been an understatement. He was quite impressed, especially since a lot of it had been done with only a certain amount of nudging in the right direction. … okay and maybe more than a little bit of nagging, pouting, and manipulation, but that as a completely different and absolutely relevant story. But he was now doing many of the things Jim had instilled in him on his own and it was almost like watching your child riding his bike for the first time. It took some guidance, pushing, involved a fair amount of crying, and there were still scrapes and bruises from where they fell, but they were still doing it. If Jim were capable of producing tears he may have done so. “Good, I’m proud. If you’d have said you did I’m afraid the offer of a personal show might have been taken off the table because I would have been utterly disappointed.” Jim shook his head casually in response to Greg’s question of the judge noticing his sudden effort, but only after rolling his eyes dramatically. “My god, Gregory! No wonder she gave you a hard time. But luckily for you, no, she will not notice. The woman is a little… well, she’s a fucking idiot, really. She will see the way you have presented yourself tomorrow and all memories of whatever horrid attire you wore the day before will be wiped from her mind completely. You are going to be a dapper looking bastard. It’ll be hard to notice anything else if you do it correctly. Or you could always show up in the nude. I’m not sure there would be a single person in that court room that wouldn’t appreciate the best suit you have, even after having your closet restocked by the best. She will likely go along with you for the most part, especially since the defense is Wilkinson and the man does not brush his teeth more than twice a week and his zipper is down m—m—mooooore than it is up,” He said with a yawn, having not been told anything about who the defense attorney was, simply deducing who it was based on the day, the cases in which Greg would have had to have been in court for, and quite a few other clues. “Have you ever noticed that she never asks him to approach the bench? It is for good reason, let me assure you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is taken from a roleplay so it switches perspective in each chapter, some chapters will be incredibly short as inspiration didn't always strike us, I write for Greg and a friend writes for Jim.


End file.
